


General Practice

by reliquiaen



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 09:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3405350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reliquiaen/pseuds/reliquiaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It took more self-control than she'd ever admit to not tear the packing foam free and find out what it concealed. " - AU. Because I REALLY needed to write this. u.u</p>
            </blockquote>





	General Practice

It was a very long day; the coffee machine was broken, a seeming epidemic of flu had broken out across half the city and the waiting room had been full of screaming, diseased children all damn day. So yes, it was long, and Bonnibel was tired. She needed caffeine, stat. And some pills to cure her increasingly problematic headache (courtesy of screaming, diseased children) would have been appreciated also. 

Thankfully – as she waved a farewell to yet another anxious mother and smiled blearily in what she could only hope was convincing cheer – that was her last patient. She didn’t make it back into her office after they left (removing the last of the screaming in the process, thank God), instead opting to sink into the sofa beside reception. Norma (todays attending administrator) gave her a once over and a knowing smile.

“You should have a nap,” Norma informed her bluntly. The older woman had never been much for things like ‘tact’ or ‘subtlety’; she told it like she saw it. And, in the unlikely event she didn’t see something, she made it up.

Bonnibel’s eyes slid closed as her head flopped onto the arm rest and she waved a hand in vague acknowledgement. “Mmhmm,” she groaned. “Working on it.”

It was quiet in the room for a while then (aside from the sound of Norma’s typing and the occasional shuffle of papers) and Bonnie very nearly succeeded in her search for sleep. But then of course the doors slid open with their hushed murmur and a gust of uncommonly strong wind from outside. Bonnibel did her utmost to ignore it. Honestly, she did not care at this point. Norma was right: sleep sounded awesome.

“Excuse me,” a musical voice said quietly. “My appointment was moved today because my doctor is on holidays?” Why that sounded like a question, Bonnie didn’t know, but the uncertainty was probably well founded. The practice was about to close for the evening.

“Hum?” Norma replied in that almost-absent way she had. “Oh yes, you’re a patient of Doctor Drumm’s, yes?”

“That’s right.”

“One moment.”

In a moment of absolute dejection and resignation, Bonnie felt a hand on her shoulder. She blinked dazedly up at Norma who smiled sadly at her. Bonnibel didn’t even have it in her to be upset by the unspoken request Norma was putting to her.

She sighed, rolling upright and nearly falling off her sofa in the process. “Did Gemma go already?” Bonnie queried.

“Afraid so, love,” Norma replied. “You’re the last one here. I mean, you always are, but today you should’ve gone home when you had the chance.”

Bonnibel offered a tired smile. “That’s what I get for being a workaholic I guess.”

With a short nod and another reassuring smile, Norma slapped a folder into her hands and turned back to the woman who’d walked in late. It had been an awfully long day and the air conditioning was making her a little woozy (her lack of caffeine wasn’t helping with that) and all she really wanted was to curl up and sleep (and really, she’d do it anywhere, even on the practice’s lumpy sofa if she had to). Instead what happened was she stared a little too hard at the folder in her hands with the name ‘Marceline Abadeer’ printed in wonky block letters at the top. Or maybe they just looked wonky because she was so goddamned tired.

Slowly, her gaze drifted up to the woman she could only presume bore that name. She was about half an inch shorter than Bonnibel but her black boots had heels, more than making up for that. The woman – Marceline – was dressed all in black, a long coat (practical even out of season given how blustery it had been lately), a dress and leggings. She looked rather warm actually and the idea contrasted so horridly with the air conditioning pumping stale air through the building that Bonnie wanted to cry. Marceline’s hair was dark, long-ish and pulled back in a haphazard tail, hanging wildly about her pale face (and the pale wasn’t helped by her dark eyeliner).

Bonnibel blinked at her and tried her best to smile. “Come on in then,” Bonnie murmured, motioning for her office door. 

Marceline grinned back; it was lopsided and wry, more of a smirk really. “You look dead on your feet. Must be nice to have a long weekend then, yeah?” The woman sank into one of the padded chairs carefully. Bonnie fell into her own chair with much less grace.

“Mm…” she affirmed. “It has been a long day. There’s no coffee in this building and I don’t have time to go down the street to get some. Don’t know what you’re talking about with this ‘long weekend’ nonsense though. I have to work tomorrow.”

Marceline gave her a scandalised look that couldn’t help but appear a little less sincere than she might’ve hoped. “And what does your other half have to say about that, hm? Working on Valentine’s Day. Tut-tut, doc, that’s no good for the love life.”

Bonnie glared at the other woman (only it lacked spark because – as previously established – she was tired). “I don’t have another half,” she replied tartly. “And I haven’t since I was sixteen. They’re too much work and demand more than I can give them. Also, I volunteered to work tomorrow so my colleague could have the day off.”

At the bite in Bonnibel’s words, the smirk on her current patient’s face canted up a little, losing its edge and becoming a smile. A flash of piercing brightness fluttered in Bonnie’s chest. “That’s terrible.” There was laughter in Marceline’s voice as she spoke and Bonnie couldn’t maintain her anger (no doubt a combination of laziness and her basic good nature).

“What about you?” Bonnie asked, eyes flicking down the sheets stacked in the folder Norma had given her. It was thicker than she’d expected. “Just getting a check-up so you don’t infect your significant other? You don’t look sick.”

The waver that flashed through Marceline’s smile then was almost non-existent. “No significant other, doc,” the woman replied somewhat more subdued than before. “And I have to get a check-up every month. You read it in there, right?”

Bonnie nodded. “It must suck to be an asthmatic who suffers from chronic bronchitis, yes? Have you had trouble with it recently?”

Marceline nodded. “Yup. I don’t know why though, it’s usually worst in spring. I blame the weather.”

Carefully, Bonnibel read the second page, then the third. “You’re a teacher,” she murmured. “Have you been straining your voice during work?”

The other woman looked away. “Maybe a little. I was told that I shouldn’t push myself, and I haven’t been. But…” Marceline trailed off, not quite able to make eye contact. She sighed, “I might’ve taken on an extra role with the college choir this year.”

Bonnie’s eyes widened, taking in the list of activities Marceline already had on her application. University lecturer, professional musician (a long list of instruments was included there), independent teacher for school kids learning piano, guitar and violin. It said she used to sing as well and there was a band listed, but an addendum had been marked down by her usual doctor detailing why she was no longer involved in those things: too much stress for her lungs mostly. It was all very impressive.

“Hmm…” Bonnie acknowledged. “Let’s take a test then,” she added, looking up from the papers. “Just to check your breathing and heart rate. I’m sure you’ll be fine if you’re careful, but better safe than sorry.”

Marceline smiled wanly, but nodded. “Sure thing, doc,” she muttered as Bonnibel strapped the device around her arm. A few deep breaths were all it took.

“I’ll need you to unbutton your coat,” Bonnie said softly, retrieving her stethoscope from her drawer. 

The grin on Marceline’s face cranked up then. “Well then,” she said slyly. “That’s not very professional is it, doc? It thought there was a rule against fraternising with patients.”

Bonnie glared at her and gave no warning before sliding the cold metal against Marceline’s sternum. It gave her a little more pleasure than it should have when the infuriating woman inhaled sharply at the touch. The soft thumping of Marceline’s heart in her ears was steady enough, it stuttered a little as Bonnie’s hand slipped across her collarbone and pressed a hand against her shoulder blade.

“Sounds alright,” Bonnibel told her, stepping away. “It skipped a little, but it was probably from the cold. Have you felt feverish at all lately?”

Inexplicable pink tinted Marceline’s cheeks. “No,” she replied in little more than a whisper, cheeky confidence gone. “Just a cough and difficulty speaking. I figured I should have a check-up just in case.”

“Good call,” Bonnie said, scribbling out a form. “I can’t give you a script because you don’t seem to need medication. But I can give you this,” she paused to rip the end off of the document and handed it to her patient. “It might help a little given the weather.”

Marceline frowned down at the paper. “What is this?”

“My friend owns the café, Ranch, down the street,” Bonnie said with a shrug. “Just give him that and he’ll know what it’s for. Trust me,” she winked, getting a shocked look from Marceline.   
“It’ll do you a world of good.” She stood then, holding the door for Marceline to go through and followed her to Norma’s desk.

Marceline was still staring at the paper with an adorable frown as Norma pushed some forms across to her. “I’ll need your John Hancock here,” Norma said, prodding the sheet.

Blinking, Marceline stuffed the note Bonnie had given her in her pocket and reached for her wallet. “What’s the damage today, then?” she asked, scrawling a signature on the paper with her other hand.

“No charge,” Bonnibel replied, filling out a form of her own. “I’ll bulk bill you.”

“Um… alright,” Marceline said slowly. “Thanks… I guess I’ll see you around.” Bonnie watched as Marceline left the practice, doors swishing shut behind her. Even after the woman was gone, Bonnibel was left staring at the space she’d occupied and thought idly that perhaps a stronger impact had been left than she’d expected.

Norma watched her shake free of her perplexed stupor with an almost blank expression. “Going home now, I take it?” Norma asked quietly and Bonnie blinked her into focus.

“Yes, I think so. I really need a nap.” She turned to fetch her things together before heading out. “And if I’m late tomorrow, it’s because I slept in.”

 

\-----

 

Bonnie wasn’t late. She almost never was. In fact, she was early. Norma wasn’t there yet so she went in the back way. Her eyes were still grainy and her head throbbed unpleasantly, but she took satisfaction in knowing that today would be slow and she could sleep until midday tomorrow.

She deposited her bag by her desk and shuffled out into the reception just as Norma entered through the front doors. Bonnibel frowned slightly at the unmarked brown box Norma was toting with her. The older lady was staring at a note pinned to the top and smiled when she saw Bonnie standing there. 

Norma dropped the box on the counter and waved at it. “It’s for you,” she said a little too happily. “It’s addressed to you anyway. I didn’t read the note.”

Confused, Bonnie peeled the envelope off the top of the box, slid a finger under the tab and pulled the paper from within. Like the envelope, the letter began with her name. There was no formal greeting or any other form of typical salutation, just her name and a hand written note.

_Bonnibel_ , it began. _I’m not really sure what to call you honestly; you’re a doctor after all so I probably should’ve started with something else. Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for yesterday. That coffee was the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. That friend of yours sure knows what he’s doing, my throat feels excellent and my cough has disappeared (I imagine it’s only temporary, but it’s still nice to breathe properly). I would’ve stopped by to thank you in person, but I have work today too and didn’t want to interrupt or whatever. Call me._

Underneath was a mobile number. It was signed by Marceline. Bonnibel bit her lip – fighting a smile – very confused now. She pulled the scissors from Norma’s desk drawer (ignoring the curious look she got) and sliced the box open. It took more self-control than she’d ever admit to not tear the packing foam free and find out what it concealed. 

It was a coffee machine.

The smile couldn’t be hidden this time, no matter how hard she bit down on her lip. Norma noticed. Bonnie couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Who’s this from then?” the receptionist asked teasingly. “Secret admirer?”

“A patient,” Bonnibel replied, sliding the machine back into the box. She’d put it in the kitchen later. Or… maybe she’d do it now, to escape the way Norma was staring at her.

“Uh huh,” the woman said, unconvinced, as Bonnie carried the box off. “Sure. Can I use it?”

“Absolutely.” 

Once the contraption was settled (and the old, broken coffee maker had been thrown unceremoniously in the dumpster behind the practice) Bonnie pulled her phone out. For a while she stood there alternating between staring at her phone and at the letter with Marceline’s number on it. Gradually, she input the number and typed simply: _I’m off at 4.30_. Then she pressed send and put her phone away, determined to ignore it for the rest of the day.

It… Well… It didn’t quite happen the way she planned. Bonnibel was a lot less sleepy than she had been prior to the discovery of the coffee maker and she couldn’t for the life of her stop smiling. Norma noticed. Norma always noticed.

The few patients she had noticed too. Why she was so happy, Bonnie wasn’t sure. Even her friend Rosie noticed when she stopped by for lunch.

“You haven’t stopped smiling since I got here,” Rosie laughed as they sat out the back of the practice eating the lunch she’d brought with her from the Ranch. “Jake mentioned that you sent a patient his way yesterday with a freebie. That wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with your stellar mood today, would it?”

Bonnie glared at her (but not quite managing to erase the smile, so it didn’t have much effect). “I don’t see how the two correlate.”

“You have a new coffee machine,” Rosie muttered. All these sudden topic changes were going to do Bonnibel’s head in.

“Still don’t see anything to connect these three _completely_ unrelated things,” she grumbled. So maybe it was a lie. Maybe. But she’d be damned if she gave Rosie the satisfaction. “Are you doing anything today?” Two could change the topic in this game.

“Jake’s taking the afternoon off and the gallery isn’t open today,” her friend replied with an effort to seem nonchalant (that only failed a little). “So I imagine we’re going to do something. Why? Has he said anything to you?”

Bonnibel laughed. “No, Rosie, he hasn’t. And if he had, I still wouldn’t tell you. This sort of thing is all about secrets. And we know how Jake likes to be covert.”

“That’s true. So,” she began, looking everywhere but at Bonnie. “Who gave you the coffee machine?”

She sighed and slumped back into her seat. “Can we drop this please? A patient gave it to me. That’s it.”

Rosie rolled her eyes. “It’s _Valentine’s Day_ , Bonnie,” she whined. “Nothing is given to anyone today without some sort of subtext. Come on.”

“You’re reading too much into this.”

“Into what?” They both turned and Rosie’s face lit up when she saw Jake step outside. “What are we talking about, ladies?” He sank into the chair beside Rosie, getting a kiss for his trouble.

“Bonnibel has a secret admirer who sent her a coffee machine today,” Rosie told him brazenly. She didn’t so much as glance at Bonnie when she said it.

“Ooh,” he said, grinning. “Sounds like you’ve got a _fan_.”

“Shut up,” she grouched, standing. “I’m going back inside. You two aren’t welcome if you’re going to be like that. It was just a gift.”

Jake clapped a hand to his chest. “You’re being very touchy today, Bonnie,” he noted.

“And melodramatic,” Rosie added, nodding.

“That too. Calm down.”

Bonnie sighed. “Sorry, I’m going to blame my lack of sleep. But I do have to get back inside. And it was just a gift. There was no subtext,” she said with a pointed frown at Rosie.

“No worries,” Jake replied, bouncing back. “Might see you tomorrow?”

“Count on it.”

The afternoon flickered by in a silly little montage of patients (no screaming kids today, thank goodness) and coffee breaks. Honestly, the machine was a godsend, life was so much better with coffee. And it was nice to be able to concentrate on things.

Her last patient was out the door at 4.12pm. As was her habit though, she got distracted by paperwork and had to reorganise one of her filing drawers with updated profiles. How troublesome it proved to be.

So obviously, when she was peering through one of those drawers and an unexpected knock sounded on her door, she very nearly jumped out of her skin. Bonnie spun around, clutching papers to her heart, eyes wide. And then she smiled, relief coursing through her.

“Hi,” Marceline said quietly. 

“Hi,” Bonnie breathed back. She glanced down at her watch and then back up at Marceline who was smiling sheepishly. “You’re early.”

“I know. I just… yeah. I’m early.” She shuffled her feet and pulled her hands from behind her back. Flowers. Bonnie wasn’t sure, but there was a good chance her mouth was open (from confusion again).

Bonnibel was no expert in the floral department, but she knew enough to recognise yellow tulips and daffodils. It was the other flower that stumped her. “Are those… for me?” she asked warily.

“Um…” Marceline began, twirling the bouquet between her fingers. “Yes? You said you didn’t have anything to do tonight and I dunno, but I figured maybe we could hang out or something. It doesn’t seem right to do nothing on Valentine’s Day and you said you’d had a long few days and you were working and that kinda sucks so I dunno…” The words all gushed out in a garbled torrent, a rush of water bursting through a dam before thinning to a trickle.

Bonnie smiled at her, stepping closer; wrapping her hands around Marceline’s to stop her from fidgeting. “They’re lovely. Thank you.” From the heat in her ears, Bonnie realised she was probably blushing, but this was incredibly weird. “I’d love to hang out.”

“Yeah?” Marceline seemed genuinely surprised by the possibility.

“Yeah.” She relieved the other woman of the flowers, tipped over the old coffee plunger full of pencils, filled it with water from the adjoining room and placed the flowers carefully inside. All the while Marceline stood rooted to the spot, eyes a little wide, watching her. “What’s that flower called?” Bonnibel asked softly, grabbing her bag and pointing at the funny maroon and white blossom.

“Uh… gloxinia I think the woman called it,” Marceline replied, rubbing a hand across the back of her neck. “She said it meant something-or-other, but I just thought it looked nice with all the yellow.”

Bonnie laughed. “It does.” She motioned for the door, still chuckling, “After you. Did you have something in mind for this evening?”

Marceline shrugged. “Not really. When I say ‘hang out’ what I mean is watch movies, eat something unhealthy, maybe observe the fireworks from a safe distance and possibly even mock the people who take Valentine’s Day seriously.”

“Sounds absolutely fantastic,” Bonnibel assured her. “I’ve never taken it seriously either. The general notion is nice, but really it’s just an excuse to take a day off work and make a lot of money from cheesy greeting cards and chocolate.”

Marceline’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god, I feel the exact same way. It’s a day designed to produce money and that’s it. The whole ‘day to celebrate love’ or whatever junk it is they say is just a nice way of wrapping it up.”

“Honestly,” Bonnie said, waving farewell to Norma as they left. “Some people are so stupid.” She paused. “The fireworks are usually nice to watch though.”

“Oh yeah, no contest.”

 

\-----

 

She left Marceline’s apartment late (very late) and scowled at the text messages she’d received from Rosie overflowing with _insinuations _that right now were rather premature. Still, she’d had a nice evening and was seriously starting to worry that she’d never be able to stop smiling. Despite alternating between painfully cautious and almost inappropriately indecent, Marceline was good company (and a surprisingly competent cook).__

__When Bonnibel arrived back at her apartment, the very first thing she did was turn on her laptop and look up the flowers Marceline had given her. The woman had spent the whole evening deflecting any questions pertaining to them, but after her initial slip wherein she’d admitted to knowing flowers had meanings, Bonnie was convinced she’d put more thought into the bouquet than she let on._ _

__She wasn’t wrong._ _


End file.
